A Promise Kept

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Andrew looked up sharply from his laptop to his front door, where someone had just delivered several forceful knocks. “BRB” he typed quickly to a friend as he pushed back his chair and went to check the door. He looked through the peephole to see a woman with long curly brown hair standing with her arms crossed and her face tilted down. He didn’t know her, but she looked unintimidating, so he flipped the lock and turned the handle. He turned out to be wrong on both assessments.

She looked up as the door opened and he recognized her now, although he’d never before seen her in real life. She was shorter than he’d imagined, and less… smiley. In fact, her mouth was set in a hard line which belied most of the pictures she’d sent. “Hi,” he said, too shocked to say anything else. “Are you going to let me in?” she asked, moving her hands to her hips. He nodded mutely, stepping back and shutting the door behind them.

“You were supposed to call me,” she said, her back to him as she took her coat off and laid it on a nearby chair. Her eyes swept over his living room, assessing the surroundings. Andrew tried to reply, but he was still struggling to figure out exactly what was happening. She moved as if she knew this place, though he knew she’d never been to his state before, much less his apartment. Finally he settled on another nod, his mind concentrating on the immediate toll her presence was taking on him. His face was flushed, surely red, and he could feel the heat rising up from the collar of his shirt. His palms were sweaty and he pressed them against his pants in an attempt to stave off the clamminess.

“I got tired of waiting,” she continued, “and if I’m not mistaken, you have a paddle around here some place. Get it.” Andrew felt unable to do anything but obey. He walked to his room, staring blankly at his collection of spanking implements for a moment before grabbing the smallish wooden paddle and the longer fraternity style one. When he came back to the living room she had removed her heels and rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse, so she resembled a stern librarian-turned-barefoot-hippy, although there was no sign of peace and love in her expression. She gestured at the coffee table as she took a seat on the sofa, straightening her long skirt and then patting her lap.

Andrew walked obediently to her side, setting the paddles where she’d indicated and taking his place by her knee. She briskly undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, whisking them down around his ankles before tugging his hand gently down. He slowly laid his long frame across her waiting lap, bracing his hands on the floor and feeling his legs hanging awkwardly in the air as she pushed his body forward, adjusting him to her satisfaction.

He felt her hand rest on his backside, felt the heat from her palm through the thin material of his boxers, thought about how that heat would soon be coming from his skin, not hers, and shivered nervously. “So your evenings have become so packed that you can’t call a friend to say hello?” she asked, patting his bottom firmly. “You can’t spare 30 minutes to check in these days?” Her hand came down harder, still not quite hurting, just making her presence known, keeping him aware that she was in control of the situation, of the spanking, of him. His muscles twitched as she continued scolding him, and he felt his ears begin to burn. “You can take time to send me a few short emails, just enough to make me curious, to make me a little worried, to promise a real conversation, but you can’t take the time to actually talk to me?” and this time she brought her hand down with real force behind it, and he grunted in surprise. She continued her hard smacks for a few minutes, and he tried to get outside of himself, to analyze what was happening, to not think about how he was upended over the lap of a near stranger.

He looked for patterns in the carpet, noticed his lost remote under the couch, saw that her toenails were painted a fresh bright blue. It was hard to stay distracted when he felt a breath of cool air on his bottom as she pulled his underwear down. She tapped his hip and he lifted as best he could, so that she could pull them all the way past his knees. Without a pause she resumed the spanking, her hand coming down over and over on his exposed skin. Andrew thought that her hand must be stinging as much as his backside, just as she stopped and reached over his body for one of the paddles.

The wood felt cool as she tapped it against his bare bottom, getting a feel for the implement, and he knew it was the smaller of the two. The spanking began again, and whatever hopes he’d had of maintaining his poise vanished after a few minutes of the relentless strokes. He heard small sounds escape his lips and he was powerless to keep them in. His left hand lifted from the floor several times, though he resisted the urge to reach back. Eventually the paddle slowed, and she began to talk again, accenting her words with hard swats to his bottom. “Do you think it’s a good idea not to keep in touch with me, Andrew?” He took a shuddery breath and managed a weak “no,” followed immediately by a volley of spanks to the tops of this thighs. “No?” came her voice above his head. “No ma’am no ma’am no ma’am,” he replied quickly, exhaling heavily and feeling drops of sweat bead at his temples.

“Do you think it’s very courteous to make promises and not keep them?”

“No ma’am!”

“And do you think some time in the corner might help you remember to call your friends when you say you will?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Good boy,” she said, and he heard the paddle being set on the table and then felt her fingers pulling at his shoulders. He scrambled up to stand beside her. She moved his hands to his head and pointing him toward the corner by the window, planting a firm swat on his bright pink backside as he shuffled over.
He stood there with his nose by the wall, the real shock of everything that just happened settling over him. His muscles clenched involuntarily as he replayed the events of the last half hour, their aching heat the only thing that convinced him this wasn’t a dream. He had just been spanked, bare bottomed and over the knee. He heard her moving around his house, wondered what she could be doing, and found some comfort in knowing he could trust her in his home.

Just as his arms began to tense from their upward positioning, she called his name, and he turned, lowering his hands at her nod. Her shoes were back on and she held her coat over one arm. He took a few tentative steps in her direction and she met him halfway, reaching a hand up to brush his cheek and making pointed eye contact, making sure that he was okay, that they were okay. She took his arm and half turned him so she could admire her handwork, pressing her palm to his hot skin, assessing the damage and finding herself pleased. She pulled his boxers up, then tapped his shin to make him step out of his pants.

He watched as she folded them and placed them on the table with the paddles and a note she must have written while he waited in time-out. “This is my hotel address and the number there. I’m here for a week,” she said, tapping the paper with a fingernail. “You’ll call tomorrow and we’ll go eat somewhere. We’ll talk.” Her eyes had taken on a bit of a twinkle and he thought she might be working hard to conceal a grin at the absurdity of their first meeting, at her boldness, at his continued blush. “Right now, you will go to bed, and I will meet the taxi that has been here for a good ten minutes. Okay?”

He nodded, and suddenly she was in front of him, hugging him fiercely. She looked up at him and smiled brightly. “It’s so good to meet you. And you behaved very well for your very first spanking.” He hugged her back, feeling a smile on his own face. She turned then, stopping as she twisted the door handle, looking back to say only “bed, Andrew,” and then she was gone. He shook his head, trying to sort his thoughts, then went about his nighttime routine, turning off the computer, locking the door, brushing his teeth. He winced as he climbed into bed, rolling quickly over to lay on his stomach, reaching a tentative hand back to feel his tender skin.

He fell asleep with dreams about tomorrow, and all the tomorrows, and quite sure that this first spanking wouldn’t be his last.

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